


Distractions

by HugeWingspans



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Chapter 48, F/M, I saw some stuff on tumblr and 3 hours later here we are, Light Angst, Rhys POV, The Inn Scene, idek this just sort of happened ok?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 05:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HugeWingspans/pseuds/HugeWingspans
Summary: The Inn Scene from chapter 48 of ACOMAF that we all know and love, retold from Rhys’s point of view. NSFW.





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> I know that someone has definitely written this scene before so just... if you think there might be any case of plagiarism please let me know. Also, first time writing smut or anything smut related. Go easy on me.

"I want a distraction. I want - fun."

The words - breathless and needy as they are, coming out of her mouth - cause my limbs to lock up for a moment. My mind can barely seem to register them, the meaning of them.

Perhaps it's what I deserve to hear, trying as I did to coax the words I want out of her, so desperate to hear my mate say that she wants me. Perhaps I should have seen it coming.

Of course she wouldn't say me. And I shouldn't expect her to want anything lasting so soon after leaving the Spring Court. It is foolish of me, selfish even. To indulge in the fantasy that she might want me.

But, foolish or not, she's here. In my arms, arching into my touch, encouraging it. And maybe she doesn't want what I want, want as _much_ as I want, but this desire… this desire is something we share. This is something I am more than willing to give her.

"Then allow me the pleasure of distracting you" I murmur into her ear, letting my hands move over her skin, one of them diving under her sweater to palm her breasts. She groans as I touch her, as I circle my fingers around her nipple. The sound sends a jolt of desire through my blood, my already hard cock throbbing.

"I love these" The words escape without my meaning them to, a breathy gasp onto her neck, as I move my hand to her other breast, as I flatten the other hand against her stomach. "You have no idea how much I love these."

The words - or perhaps it is my hands, moving against her skin - are rewarded by another groan dragged from Feyre's throat. She arches into the touch, and I almost feel triumphant at earning that response from her.

Until she starts grinding her backside into me.

I feel the breath leave my body, hear the hiss coming out of my mouth. I instinctively tighten my grip on her body.

"Stop that" I manage to bite out, the words a low growl, "You'll ruin my fun" I add.

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say; she starts to twist in my arms, reaching for the bulge in my pants that is pressed against her.

And I find myself facing a rather difficult decision.

I want her to touch me - more than anything I want her hands on me, her mouth, everything.

But that lust is deeply interlaced with another kind of want, another kind of need.

Because she is my mate; I want all of her, but she doesn't want more than this. She wants something easy, convenient. She wants fun.

And I know with absolute certainty that if I let her touch me, if I give completely in to my lust, I will be giving in to my other desires as well; I will not be able to hold back the words that are echoing through my mind.

_I love you, Feyre, I love you. You are everything to me._

So I pull her closer to my chest, clicking my tongue as I do, a reprimand.

"I want to touch you first," I manage to get out. "Just - let me touch you" I plead with her, knowing that if she makes to touch me again I will let her, and I will be done for.

She stops, then relaxes into my touch as I start drawing lines on her stomach, along the band of her pants. Her breath hitches and I trail my hand there again, and again, delighting in the way she squirms and tries to coax me on.

"Please" I am nearly surprised to hear the word leave her mouth, but the surprise is largely overridden by satisfaction. I smile against her neck.

"There are those missing manners," I whisper as I let my hand drift under her pants, to the part of her that aches for my touch. The sound that leaves her, the wetness of her core…

I growl, utterly pleased with her body's response to me. I let my fingers play with her, my thumb circling around until she squirms. My other hand squeezes her breast as I press down on her, flick my thumb in a way I know will cause her to -

"Ah!" the back of her head is resting against my shoulder. I can't help the low laugh that escapes me.

"Like that?" I ask against her skin. She moans - not really an answer.

I slide my fingers down through her folds, taking my time and delighting in the ragged sound of her breathing.

"Please" She whispers again, grinding her ass against me the way she did before. My finger moves of its own volition, sliding into her with ease.

"Fuck," I grind out, watching as she starts moving her hips against my hand. "Feyre-" I exhale heavily, my mind so full of her that all I can conjure up to say is her name. Well, that and - "Fuck." I bite out again.

I can't tear my eyes away from where we are joined, from the way she rides my hand. Even as I kiss my way up her neck, to her ear, I am mesmerized by the way she responds to my touch, to me.

I add another finger, drinking in the loud moan she lets out, the way her breathing speeds up.

"That's it" I whisper against her ear as I trace the shell of it, remembering how I once told her the feeling was similar to that of having my wings touched. Her hips are still bucking against my hand, my fingers buried in her. I don't think much of it when she turns to face me, too lost in the sight of her body.

That is, until she kisses me.

The sudden feeling of her lips pressed against mine, of her biting my lower lip, sends my mind and body into a new sort of frenzy. It may not mean much to her, the passionate way she seeks out my mouth now, it may be only another facet of her need for a distraction.

My mind, however, is occupied entirely by the knowledge that she is kissing me, she is _kissing_ me, freely and because she wants to and not because someone is watching or judging.

I can't help the groan that comes out of me as I respond to her kiss, as I plunge my fingers into her, harder than before. All I can find it in myself to care about is her, _Feyre_ , her body pressed against mine, grinding into my hand, her lips devouring me, opening to me…

"You have no idea how much I - " The words topple out of me before I can check them, before I can stop them. I only barely catch them, the terrible mistake that might send her reeling, withdrawing from me in a way that might make me lose her.

_How much I love you._

Instead I groan into her skin, feeling her ragged breath against me. "Feyre" I whisper.

It is as if her name on my lips has triggered something in her - I can almost feel the release coursing through her body as she cries out. The sound, the knowledge of what it means sends a primal sort of satisfaction coursing through my body and I kiss her, drinking in the sound of her pleasure.

_My mate._

"Fuck" I whisper against her lips, my breathing hard and uneven as I ease her through the aftermath.

When I feel her body relax completely I withdraw my hand - although somewhat reluctantly - and pull back to look her in the eye.

"I wanted to do that when I felt how drenched you were at the court of Nightmares." I see her eyes darken slightly at my confession, at the memory. Her interest spurs me on. "I wanted to have you right there in the middle of everyone. But mostly I just wanted to do this." I bring my fingers to my mouth, hold her gaze as I suck on the taste of her. Her eyes flicker to my lips, linger there.

Her breathing is already speeding up again, her hand sliding up my chest in a way that makes my head reel and my cock throb.

Yet I find myself stopping her, hand gripping her wrist. And while I would love nothing more than to let her have me, I have already come too close to confessing this night, to driving her away.

Not exactly an explanation I can give her.

"When you lick me," I say instead, voice rough, "I want to be alone - far away from anyone. Because when you lick me, Feyre," I continue as I press my mouth against her neck, unable to stop at least this confession now that I've started telling her, "I'm going to let myself roar loud enough to bring down a mountain."

I can feel her body loosening again, hear the needy sigh that passes her lips. I laugh under my breath at the sound. "And when I lick you," I say, wrapping my arms around her and pressing her body to mine, even as I can barely form coherent sentences from the image in my mind - Feyre on her back, arching into my mouth as I let myself loose and devour her…

"I want you splayed out on a table like my own personal feast." I growl. The low whimper that escapes her only encourages me to keep talking.

"I've had a long, long time to think about how and where I want you," I breathe onto her neck, wondering - too late - if perhaps I have revealed too much with that, unable to stop the words that continue to flow out of me as I touch her, my hand reaching again under her pants, stopping before I reach the promised land. "I have no intention of doing it all in one night" despite how much I might want to, "or in a room where I can't even fuck you against the wall." The shiver that goes up her spine tells me that she has conjured up the same mental image as I have - our bodies moving together as I hoist her up to wrap her legs around my waist, her back flat against the wall.

She reaches for me again, and I am delighted at how turned on she is at my words, the truths I have given her. But even so, continuing now will result in other truths being revealed, truths she is not ready to hear.

"Sleep." I say to her. I can sense her incredulity, the protests she is about to bring up. Something I should probably have expected after winding her up so much.

I stroke her body soothingly, an apology of sorts for making sleep more difficult than necessary. My hands move lightly against her sides and stomach, slowing down as her breathing does.

She is asleep within minutes.

I stare at her face in the darkness, my heart aching as I recall her earlier words.

_I want a distraction. I want fun._

It's not that I'm unwilling to distract her from her troubles - that, I will gladly do. It's the fact that she wants nothing more from me, the fact that she sees me as nothing but a reliable release, that she doesn't think as deeply of the connection between us as I do.

Yes, I want fun. But I also want so much more.

And it was easy - easy enough to let myself go when her body moved against mine, claimed me, possessed me. Easy to let myself believe, if only for brief moments, that she felt about me the way I did about her.

But holding her I find myself wondering if it is truly worth it - if this chance to be with her, the only way she will allow me, is worth the heartbreak I will sustain when I inevitably lose her.


End file.
